Under the Stars
by MakeTheStarsFall
Summary: Angelina decides George, her best friend since forever, needs to get away, so that's exactly what they do. My story of how they got together in the first place. Afer DH. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**So I'm not completely positive exactly where this story is going to go. But I love the Weasley twins, and Harry Potter in general, so here goes.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the genius who came up with these character/scenarios, not me. But you could have figured that out. :)  
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"Oi, Fred…" I called out to my twin to point out that Ron was having a spaz in the bathroom about a Snitch-sized pimple on his forehead caused by the latest Skiving Snackbox I had planted in his breakfast: Pimply Pills (while it wasn't going to be great at getting you out of a class, it had its perks at messing with Ron), only to remember that Fred was dead.

Well, that's another day ruined by the thought of my brother gone forever. It had only been three weeks since the War, as we too-kindly referred to the bloody battle with traitors and martyrs and heroes and cowards and Death Eaters and Voldemort, but three weeks without Fred was like a year with Aunt Muriel: dull and seeming to last hundreds times longer than reality. Everyone was telling me that Fred wouldn't want me to be upset, that he'd want me to keep making the world laugh, and they're probably right. But I'm not going to go about laughing at things that shouldn't be laughed at alone. Life was meant to be laughed at, yes--but with Fred, not by myself. It just wouldn't be the same, and they don't seem to understand that. "They" referring to Mum and Dad, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Bill, Charlie, the Order...everyone who had been there for the War.

I didn't leave my room for the first two and a half weeks after the War; Mum brought me food. I didn't even go to see Angelina when she stopped by to see me the day after the War. Or so Ron said she stopped by; it could have been Hermione impersonating Angelina's voice or something outside my door. But Hermione wouldn't do that to me, she's not that mean and I don't even think Ron could talk her into something like that.

Suddenly unamused, I tossed Ron the other half of the Pimply Pill and slunk away to the kitchen. Harry was in there eating toast and a glass of what could be pumpkin juice. I nodded at him. Mum smiled at me.

"How--"

"I swear, Harry, if you ask how I'm feeling I just might have to start planting Pimply Pills in your breakfast as I have Ron's." I was so sick of people asking how I was feeling. Did they not realize I just lost my best friend, my brother, my twin, my partner-in-crime?

"Well," Harry said after a moment's pause, "Angelina stopped by again yesterday. I think she really wants to talk to you, George. You might want to write." Mum brought me a few pieces of toast, dry, just the way I like it, and a mug of some steaming liquid. I dared a sip; cocoa.

"Thanks, Mum," I murmured, guzzling some more of the cocoa and shoving half a piece of toast into my mouth. She smiled weakly.

"You're welcome, dear." She kissed the top of my head and I heard her mumble to herself as she shuffled away down the hall, "Now where are Ron and Hermione? I swear if I catch them snogging on the bed again..." I couldn't help but laugh, even if it was just a breath of a chuckle. I had been betting on Ron and Hermione getting together for years, especially during the times when Ron wouldn't talk to the poor girl, like the stupid git he is. I dunno...they were just made for each other. And now they can't keep their hands off each other.

Harry and I shared a raised eyebrow as he quietly put another bite of toast in his mouth. Harry, like myself, had kept very much to himself ever since the War. From what I know, he was troubled by all of the people who had died for him: Lupin, Tonks, Colin Creevy, Fred... just to name a few.

My toast was now gone and I was staring at an empty plate. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few more pieces on the counter across the room. I pulled my wand out of my pocket and pointed.

"_Accio toast_," I whispered, and the toast came flying in my direction, slapping me in the face. Even Harry laughed at that.

I finished my toast and then wandered upstairs; I didn't even have the spirit to surprise someone by Apparating onto their lap.

"George! Way to make Ron upset! He couldn't talk for a full five minutes; he didn't think I'd like him anymore if he had a huge pimple on his forehead!" Hermione scolded me right as I passed the bathroom, where Ron's pimple was steadily shrinking as he stared at it in the mirror, like his concentration could make it shrink faster. "Oh, and Angelina--" Hermione began.

"I _know_ Angelina wants to talk to me! I'm going to write her now!" I regretted it immediately; I had always hated shouting, even at Percy when he was going through his Ministry-loving phase, because it made people upset. While I hadn't really been on my way to write Angelina, I figured I might as well. People weren't going to stop bugging me about it until I did. I sighed, not bothering to apologize to Hermione, and with a flick of my wand slammed the door behind me.

All I could do was raise my eyebrows at the mess on the floor. It was going to take me ten minutes to find a quill, and even longer to find enough parchment to write a decent sized letter. There were piles of clothes, the occasional book, and many random pranks, used and new, all of over the floor. Our bunk beds were in the back corner, with rumpled quilts that Mum made us and a few pillows. Nobody else knew this, but I'd been sleeping in Fred's top bunk for the past few nights.

The walls were plastered with various Quidditch posters. Right in the center of the north wall there was a big poster of Fred's and my shop, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and we were standing, back to back, eyeing the photographer mischievously. I looked at the poster and Fred winked at me.

I eyed the mess for awhile, wondering how in the hell I'm going to find a quill and parchment. Then, of course, I remembered I was a wizard and had a wand in my hand. I summoned a quill and I managed to catch it, though it almost took out my left eye on the way.

"_Accio parchment_," I said, and approximately four thousand sheets of parchment came soaring towards me. I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut and threw my arms up to cover, but somehow I managed to do it with only a slight squeal. I collected a blank sheet from the pile formed at my feet and shoved some things off my desk to make room to write.

_Angelina--_

_I walked into the kitchen this morning, just an innocent man trying to get some toast, and it seemed like everyone but the Queen of England told me that you came over the other day. They demanded that I write to you, so here I am, writing._

_Lee always liked Fred better than me, I could tell, so basically you've been my best friend the longest, save Fred. I know you want to talk, so maybe we could meet somewhere. I'm sick of being here; everyone acts like I've been struck by the plague and am contagious. They want to talk about Fred, but it's like they don't even want to mention his name. Sorry I didn't come to talk to you when you came by earlier._

_George_

"RON!" I yelled, not bothering to stand up. I needed his owl. Ron Apparated inside my door.

"Yes, brother?"

"I need Pig." Ron sighed and clucked his tongue a few times. Pigwidgeon came flying into my room, and landed on Ron's shoulder.

"Sort of cute, sometimes, isn't he?" Ron asked me.

"Sure... if you call scrawny and ditzy cute. Oh yeah, Hermione _does_ call you cute, doesn't she?" Ron glared at me, but I grinned. It was nice to mess with him again. Fred would have appreciated that. I got a knot in my stomach at the thought of Fred.

I tied my letter to Angelina to Pig's leg and he took off out the window. I sat down in a chair near the window and stared out of it, hoping a reply would come soon.

Angelina and I had a rather twisted past. We hit it off well our first year; she beat me up, Muggle-style, after Fred and I replaced a few of her potions ingredients, rigging it so that it would explode rather than fizzle like the way it was supposed to. She got a zero, but _I_ was the one who ended up injured. Fred had politely excused himself from the scene to go talk to Alicia Spinnet, the pretty girl who sat next to him in Transfiguration.

Angelina and I, after that, became fast best friends. We were the ones who got Fred back he sent us an early version of Puking Pastilles for Christmas one year. It puzzled me a little bit when she chose Fred over me in our sixth year, romantically, but I didn't question it too much. They were both happy; I suppose I couldn't ask for much more. I quickly forgot about it, though.

All through the Quidditch practices and games, we all basically saw Angelina as one of the boys. She competed harder and fiercer than the rest of us, and changed in front of all of us like we were her brothers and sisters. Fred liked to joke that it took us six years to realize Angelina was a girl, and one worth pursuing for that matter.

Pigwidgeon returned.

_Dear George--_

_It's good to hear from you. I do want to talk to you, and I've got an idea where we could go to be alone, because neither you nor I could deal with the public right now. Can I come by in about an hour?_

_Yours,_

_Angelina_

Somehow, I found the quill I used to write earlier and picked up another piece of parchment off the floor.

_Angelina--_

_That's fine. I sort of look like I'm a bum living on the streets, though. Is that alright?_

_George_

I looked down at myself after I tied the note to Pigwidgeon's leg and he flew off. I've been wearing the same shirt for the past four days: an old, thin tee shirt that used to be green but turned gray with age. My jeans were faded, both knees ripped out. I sniffed under my arm and crinkled my nose: I'd have to bathe before going anywhere. There's no way Mum would let me out of the house looking like this.

Grabbing some newer jeans and a cleaner shirt, I walked across the hall to the bathroom, where I started running the bath.

Fred and I had so many pranks involved with this bathtub that it was ridiculous. Usually, we filled it with some toxic or smelly liquid and positioned it in various places around the house where people would trip over it and fall in. One of us would be waiting around each corner, eager to see the person's reaction. After getting Percy twice, everyone else learned to step carefully and it didn't work anymore.

Fred. Oh, God, Fred. Every once in awhile, it hit me that he was gone and wasn't going to pop out from behind a door, laughing and declaring it his best prank ever. He was _dead_. My twin, my best friend, my brother, was gone. He was never coming back. I'd never hear him laugh again, never be the sidekick as I always was. I was on my own now, but I still didn't feel like a whole, full person. Half of me was missing. My brother. I'd never, _ever_ be the same person again. That I know for sure.

By now the bath was overflowing. I knew Mum was going to do something awful to me if she found out, so I thought my hardest to think of the proper charm to clean up all this water. Once I had thought of it, I waved my wand and it was gone, the water now down to a reasonable height. I slipped out of my jeans and shirt and climbed into the tub. I had always hated baths: one more thing Fred and I had in common. We'd spend all day getting dirty outside, usually in the mud, and then Mum would have to scrub us like mad, after chasing us around the house for an hour to get us in the tub in the first place. I smiled weakly at the thought and cleaned myself with vigor.

I was out of the bath in less than five minutes; Angelina had seen me at my worst, so I figured she wouldn't care a whole lot if I didn't smell like I came out of an apothecary shop. I definitely smelled better than I did though.

I got dressed and found Pig waiting for me outside the door. He nipped my my fingers a few times as I reached for his leg to untie the letter.

"Ow, you bloody owl!" Pig flew away to find solace with Ron and I read the letter there in the hallway, written in the messy scrawl that Angelina calls handwriting.

_Dear George--_

_Of course that's alright! Knowing you though, you probably changed right after you sent that. I'll be there in about half an hour, I have to go clean up my brother. One of his friends put a Bat-Bogey Hex on him. Has he been talking to Ginny? He might have, it will take me awhile to clean up all these bogeys off of him. Yuck._

_Yours,_

_Angelina_

I couldn't help but smile a bit. I wanted to see Angelina very badly just then-- and then I knew I shouldn't. She was Fred's. His ex-girlfriend. If I got, er, involved, with her, I don't know if I could handle that or not. I was always her best friend; but Fred was the preferred. Even if she did fall for me, so to speak, wouldn't it be like settling for second best? Fred's dead, so let's go shag his twin? I don't think so. I might be a broken man right now, and probably will forever, but even I don't deserve that.

She was his. She always would be. And there's absolutely nothing I could do about that.

I sighed at the thought and shuffled back into our-- my, room and took a seat, staring at the window and hoped that Fred would appear and take Angelina as his own once again, declaring the joke's been on me.

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Pretty please review? :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, it seems like I got a relatively positive response for the first chapter, though a lot more people read it than reviewed... ;) Please review! It means so much to me when people do that. Thanks! Love, Miranda

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There was a quiet knock on my door. "George?" Angelina's voice was timid, like she didn't want to say the wrong thing. I stood up, took one last, fleeting glance out the window, giving Fred one more chance to pop up, and then opened the door. All I saw were her big brown eyes before she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around me. I was taken by surprise a little, considering I don't think anyone's touched me in three weeks, much less hugged me, but we Weasleys have rather quick reflexes so my hands managed to find their way to the small of her back and squeezed.

I don't know how long we stood like that. I was racking my brains for any past experiences of when we've hugged, but I honestly couldn't think of any. I would have definitely remembered feeling this way: loved and carefree.

"Have we ever hugged, Angelina?" Damn. I hadn't meant to ask that out loud. Luckily for me, she chuckled.

"No, I don't think so, George. But we should more often." She looked up at me, lifting her head off my chest, and then took another step forward, forcing me backwards into my room. We untangled ourselves, and then Angelina started throwing some things into a rucksack of mine.

"Um, Ang? What are you doing?" I asked her, my stomach tying itself in a knot when she accidentally threw a shirt of Fred's into the bag. I didn't say anything, but accepted the bag when she held it out for me to take. I held it, looking confused.

"I've decided that you need to get away from all of this, George. Nothing's going to get better if you sit in your room and mope all day, and have all these mopey people around you. I know you've probably already heard this before, but Fred would have wanted you to live. So we're going to leave." She spoke affirmatively, like I didn't have a choice, and I knew by this point that I didn't. Angelina basically told me what to do, and I listened, all through Hogwarts. I'd gotten pretty good at listening to orders, as Fred usually told me what to do. Although we never ended up following our mum or dad's orders when they told us not to do something...oh well, I suppose that's different.

"Where's your broom?" Angelina threw open my closet and started digging around, but I just pointed to our little broom shed we had outside. She opened my door and started walking down the hallway, and was greeted by a few of the random people living in my house.

"Hi, Angelina!" Hermione said brightly. Angelina smiled but kept walking. Mum smiled at her as well and then winked at me. I rolled my eyes, but Mum pulled me over while Angelina braved the garden.

"Now, George, don't get yourself too involved. She's a tough girl, I know, but Fred--" I cut her off, not wanting to hear the rest.

"Uh, Mum, Angelina and I are going to go away for awhile, not sure where--"

"GEORGE WEASLEY, COME GET YOUR GARDEN GNOME OFF MY LEG!" Angelina's voice carried from the garden to the kitchen and I'm sure people could hear it all the way in Scotland. Mum called after me when I ran into the garden to pry the gnome off Angelina.

"George! You just can't leave!"

"Sorry, Mum, Angelina's already decided!" In the middle of the garden, halfway to the broom shed, Angelina was beating a little gnome that was latched onto her leg. I didn't notice if her jeans were holey or not, but they were going to be after this. Come to think of it, I'm surprised Fred and I didn't think to use gnomes more often in our pranks.

I bent down to try to get the gnome off of her, but then I remembered why we didn't use these things in pranks.

They bit. And it hurt like bloody hell.

I grabbed the gnome around the neck and squeezed. This tactic usually worked when one had latched itself onto a member of our family, but not always. Sometimes, like right now, you had to kind of stick your finger in it's cheek, which almost always resulted in biting.

I managed to get the gnome off of Angelina and I flung it about thirty feet away. She had fallen on the ground, so I took her hand and helped her up.

"Are you alright?" I asked her, the gaping hole in her jeans, right around the thigh area, drawing much attention to itself. The skin didn't appear to be broken, though. My finger, on the other hand, was bleeding like someone took an ax to it.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but what about your finger?" She took my hand in hers and examined my bleeding finger, the pain numbing as she waved her wand around it, murmuring some healing spells. In a moment, the blood had stopped, but it looked like the gnome had made off with the tip of my pointer finger. "Oh, George," she whispered, and my heart skipped a beat. I'm not sure if she meant to say that out loud, or if she meant it to sound that loving. I didn't say anything, but let her look at my finger a bit longer. The spell had finished working, and my finger felt just the same as it did ten minutes ago before this gnome business began.

Angelina let go of my hand and then started weaving through our mess of a garden to get to the broom shed. She grabbed my broom and handed it to me.

"Did you say good-bye to everyone?" I hesitated as we made our way out of the garden, not sure if Mum yelling at me not to leave counted, but then Angelina mounted her broom, which had been propped up against the front door to the Burrow. Damn. If I didn't hurry up, then she'd leave me.

I Apparated into the kitchen.

"Everyone!" I called, "I'm leaving! With Angelina! For a long time! Goodbye!" Mum came up to me and hugged me.

"Now honey, be careful. Write. Come back..." she looked me in the eye, "when you're ready." She smiled and let go of me, and Harry nodded, seeming to agree with Mum. Ginny squeezed me and whispered, "Be careful." Hermione hugged me and Ron, well, Ron just kind of smiled weakly and shook my hand. Usually people grow out of their awkward stage at about fifteen, but Ron's seventeen and still hasn't. Ah well. "Tell Dad bye for me. And um, well, sorry for the short notice. But Angelina just kind of showed up and announced that we're leaving about fifteen minutes ago. Thanks for understanding." I waved and walked out the door, mounting my broom. Angelina was already hovering by the gate.

"Come on!" She laughed, and I couldn't help but wondering what was going on in her mind. What the hell were we doing? Where were we going?

It was Angelina, though. Anything could happen. I flew over to her, but by the time I got over to her she was already flying a hundred feet in the air and fifty feet in front of me. I leaned forward to catch up.

We flew over the Lovegood's house, so we were heading east. It just occurred to me how weird it was, what we were doing. She shows up at my house, and announces that she and I are leaving, for who knows how long, and I don't even know where. But, then again, I guess that's just the way she's always been. She's the most spontaneous girl I know, and I had to admit I loved when she did things like this. It made me feel, well, alive. That could be why we've been best friends for so long; she was someone that made me laugh in ways that Fred didn't and well, I was someone who would do just about anything she wanted and never complained. Now, it's not such a dictatorship as it sounds. We've both had our give and our take, because there have definitely been times when I told her what to do. She's listened, though, every time I've ever needed her. And she always knew what would make me feel better: this whole adventure thing would probably prove to be a good example.

It took me about thirty minutes to notice that the air was bone-chilling, for June, and we were going fast so it was now to the point where I couldn't feel my cheeks anymore and my eyes were watering. I looked down; we were over nothing but trees, big leafy trees. Angelina was ahead of me, her long black braid whipping behind her.

"Angelina! Let's stop for a bit!" I called ahead, hoping she would hear me. She took a sharp dive into the forest beneath us, and I followed suit, thankful for those Weasley reflexes.

Angelina landed in a clearing silently. The clearing was only about fifty feet in diameter, I observed from above, very small and rather circular. Through the thick mess of trees I could see a crystal clear lake less than half a mile away. The sun was bright, reflecting off of it. It blinded me for a moment but then my broom dipped beneath the trees and the glare was gone. She set her broom down as I hopped off mine, placing it next to hers. She then proceeded to sit on the ground, cross legged. I raised an eyebrow. What is she up to?

"Well, George, aren't you going to come sit by me? We've been over this before, I don't bite..." I smirked, and she paused for me to finish her sentence for her.

"Very hard," She grinned as I finished her claim for her. "That's actually a lie, you know, because once in our fourth year you bit my arm so hard it drew blood," I pulled up my sleeve, "Evidence!" I took a careful step forward and sat on the ground next to her. My sleeve was still rolled up to my upper arm, and Angelina took in in her hand and examined the scar, circling her finger around it a few times.

"So," her voice was silky and quiet, dropping my arm, and I had a feeling something big was coming up, "how does it feel to be a free man, George Weasley?" I was almost afraid to answer; Angelina had a way of intimidating people with her questions, even if it wasn't an intimidating question, but by the way she said it. It was like she was demanding an answer, and nothing short of the perfect answer would be acceptable.

I thought about the answer for a minute, knowing I'd have to be careful in my answer. Free from the sadness, even if it was temporarily. I knew I'd have to go back there sometime, and seeing all my family would remind me that he's gone. Angelina was right, though: I was free. For a while. The thought of it made me want to dance. I took a deep breath and stood up, offering Angelina my hand. She took it, with a smirk, and as if reading my mind, she put her other hand on my shoulder. My left hand rested on her hip as we swayed back in forth, in time with the wind that was whispering through the trees. It was as if we were the only living creatures in the entire world.

My body had stopped listening to my mind and all sense of logic completely. My head dipped down to murmur in her ear.

"It makes me want to hold onto everyone I still have and never let them go. It makes me," Here I go again, not listening to my head, which was screaming 'LET THE GIRL GO!' On the other hand, I twirled her around slowly in a ballerina spin and then pulled her closer than before. She looked up at me, smiling, and if I wasn't mistaken, blushing. I don't recall a moment in the history of the world where Angelina Johnson has blushed. Her cocoa cheeks were now the color of a wilting rose, if you don't mind ignoring the cheesiness of that.

"Want to dance...with you," I had a feeling I shouldn't have added that last bit on the end, but something was telling me she wouldn't mind. "It also makes me want to know, Angelina, how you can go from bossy as hell and the funniest girl I know to shy and sweet and..." I couldn't even find the last word. Or maybe I could, but it was like I didn't want to, or maybe I did but it just couldn't, _wouldn't_, come out of my mouth.

"Are you talking about the hug, earlier?" She let go of my arms that she had been holding onto and turned her back to me, daring her to follow her. I, of course, did. She knew for a fact that ever since third year, I'd follow her anywhere.

It all had to do with something she wanted to get Lee back for, but neither of us remember what. She carted me all around the school, collecting various materials for me to carry around for her, and we ended up everywhere from the Forbidden Forest to the girls' bathroom to the kitchen to some rather, er, nasty places. It involved me crawling on my hands and knees beneath the floor under a toilet to pluck some slugs off the pipes. I believe those slugs ended up in Lee's underwear, if my memory serves correct.

She marched off to the edge of the clearing and placed her hand on a tree, looking down.

"Dammit, George! Everyone was talking about how messed up you were and how you wouldn't even leave your room. I wouldn't believe, though, for a second that George Weasley, _my_ George Weasley," I could feel my cheeks heating up as my eyes fell to the ground. "Would ever be so broken, because dammit, you're the strongest person I know. That hug, earlier...that was to make sure you were still there."

I was quiet, for what might have been a long time. She called me hers. Not that I'd deny that, any time. I was Angelina's man through and through. I'd do anything for her and she knows that, too.

Her eyes darted back to mine.

"Last one to the lake has to lick the other one's foot!"

_There's_ the Angelina I know.

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Let me know what you think. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oops! I just reread Chapter 2 and I realized that I said that Ron was seventeen: he's eighteen, according to the timing of this story. Sorry!

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She took off running towards the lake. I let her run for a few seconds before I spun on my heel and Apparated to the edge of the lake. I knew she'd be mad at me and demand a rematch, and I'd probably end up licking her foot, but it would be funny to see her reaction.

A few seconds later she emerged, breathing heavily, from the forest. I started whistling some song I had heard on the radio the other day, and her eyes found mine. I couldn't help but smile, having outsmarted her once again.

"I never said you could Apparate, Weasley." Angelina had a tendency to call me by my last name when she was either mad or feeling really competitive. She marched up to me and put her little hands on her hips in fists, her eyes narrowing as she stuck out her chest to make herself seem bigger than she was. I was just a few inches taller than her, at about five feet eleven, but when she wanted to she could make her presence very commanding, making one feel very small. I had always appreciated that about her, the fact that she was an excellent ally, say, if you had someone who was picking fights with you. Angelina was one who could severely injure anyone, being it with words or in some cases, her fists.

Her eyebrows were furrowed, but she managed to smile at me all the same.

"Never said I couldn't, _Johnson_," I put an extra emphasis on the fact that I used her last name. I rarely called her that, except in Quidditch matches. The sun was still bright, being midday, and it was reflecting off the lake onto her dark, shiny hair. It made me want to reach out and touch it.

"So, is there a reason you wanted to get me out here, _alone_?" I asked suspiciously, even though we both knew I was joking. The look on her face softened, but then got serious again. I could practically hear the gears in her head whirring, thinking of a witty comeback. Angelina was the one person that Fred and I could have a good row with: because she was just as good, if not better, at insults and sarcastic comebacks as we were. Of course, the rows never lasted very long, because she was the one person I could never be angry with.

"Well, Weasley, I was planning on raping you, slitting your throat, and throwing your body into the lake, but it appears you caught me before I could get started." Her stony face was similar to the one that I had. We both knew the game we were playing, and that's what made it so fun.

"Darn," I whispered, looking her right in the eye. Her eyes instantly went from grave and serious to well, I'm not even sure how to describe it. It sort of looked like she wanted to smile, but didn't want to at the same time for fear of being the one to spoil the game. Sometimes, she was really awful at keeping a straight face, while others, it was like she played poker for a living.

Right then, it hit me just how, well, amazing she was. Angelina, if nobody else, has stuck by me my entire life beginning our first year at Hogwarts. She was a bloody good Quidditch chaser, and had the body of one too, though I'd never say that to her. For several reasons, really. One, I think she would pummel me into the ground and call me some not-so-nice names, and two, I don't think she really thinks of me like I think of her, if you get what I'm trying to say.

"Let's go for a walk," I blurted, breaking the short silence. Silence was the one thing that often made Fred and I both uncomfortable, for a lot of reasons. You never know what people are thinking when they're not talking: at least you know they think you're a bit funny when they're laughing at you. Fred was always worse about it than I was, though, especially with girls. He couldn't _stand_ for things to get sappy with girls, because that often led to a bit of silence when he didn't know what she was thinking. I don't think he ever took a girl seriously in any relationship he'd had, not that he had a lot of them. I was often called the more sensitive twin, but everyone seemed to like Fred better because I'll admit it, he was funnier. The thing is, though, his jokes weren't always very nice.

Angelina looked a little taken aback by my random outburst but turned to follow me when I began to stroll around the lake slowly.

"You still have to lick my foot, you know," she said. My eyes fell to our hands, which were almost, but not quite, touching.

"And why do I have to do that? I won."

"You cheated. Automatic disqualification." I began to sigh, but then I realized that Angelina had stopped walking. I took a step back and raised an eyebrow. What was she up to this time?

She turned towards me and put a hand on my chest, standing on her toes so her eyes were just higher than mine. My heart quickened, and I had a feeling what was going to happen. Was she really going to kiss me, after all these years? I don't get a say in this? We don't have just a little more time to say, think this over? Her big brown eyes locked onto mine and her mouth curved into a devilish little half-smile.

"You know, George," her voice was much softer and sweeter than it was just moments ago when she declared me a cheat. "You've always been my best friend. But even that isn't going to keep me from doing this."

Instead of kissing me, Angelina pushed me into the lake.

The lake was a lot deeper than I had judged; I was treading water because I couldn't touch the ground. She had caught me off guard, I admit. I probably should have seen it coming, though. Angelina was always more willing to be rough and mess with you than than be intimate. It's just the way she was.

The freezing water was seeping through my clothes quickly and soon I couldn't feel my skin. This water was uncommonly cold. Angelina grinned down at me and I flipped my hair out of my face with a shake of my head.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," I said, spitting some water out of my mouth. It sort of tasted like old algae and the air inside Aunt Muriel's house: stale and putrid perfume-y. This was a truly disgusting lake.

"And what were you expecting, George?" She smiled, daring me to say what was on my mind. If I told her, it would probably change everything. Either she would leave me, cursing my grandchildren into the next century, or have some sort of epiphany and realize she loved me, though that I doubted. She dated my _brother_ for Pete's sake. It was obvious, in my eyes, who Angelina preferred.

Somehow, Angelina knew that I wasn't going to answer, or maybe she already knew the answer. She knelt on the ground and extended her hand to help me out. Stretching my arm out, our hands clasped in a tight hold and our eyes met for a moment. For some reason, she looked surprised, as if someone shocked her or put an unexpected Tongue-Tying hex on her. Angelina tugged on my arm, but I knew before I had taken her hand that she wouldn't have been able to pull me out of this dirty lake that she threw me into. So, naturally, I did the only thing a bloke could do in my situation.

Squeezing her hand, I kicked myself backward and pulled her into the lake with me.

A gurgling squeal came out of her mouth as her head plunged beneath the water. She quickly surfaced, thanks to me pulling her to the surface. I dared to wrap my arms around her waist so that we were, in a sense, hugging. Though it was a strange place to hug, floating near the edge of a lake.

"George-" she spit lake water out of her mouth and into my face. My eyelids shut instinctively, but it was still sort of gross. "Weasley. You have got some nerve." Here she goes. Now she's going to be mad, really mad, at me. Although knowing Angelina, she could start doing anything. She was one girl I couldn't quite figure out, or at least try to predict what she was going to do or say next. She never failed to surprise me.

"But," she sighed, "I've always loved that about you... and Fred. So I'd really be eating my own words if I said otherwise." For some reason, my heart seemed to skip a beat when she said the word 'love'. Angelina did a very strange thing then.

She pulled herself right up against me and entwined her legs around mine so that our hips were aligned and pressed together. Now was not the time for my hormones to act up, but they didn't seem to care what I thought. She raised an eyebrow at me, and we both knew what she was thinking. I felt my face turn red and I looked down. Unfortunately for the situation, I ended up staring right down her shirt. Angelina laughed.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and said into my ear, not bothering to lower her voice, "Hold on." I had a split second to think about what she just said and to hold her around her waist. Before I knew it, bubbles were shooting up from under the murky water, and I realized Angelina was blasting us into the air with her wand. We shot straight up; it was a good thing that we were holding on so tightly, because I found myself gripping her tighter to keep from slipping off. Angelina was laughing the whole time. She would _so_ think this is amusing, shooting me fifty feet up into the air.

Hmm. I wonder how we're going to land.

My thoughts were soon answered when we slammed into a tree-top, right into the leafy branches. Wincing at the pain in my back from landing on the tree, my hands slipped from Angelina's waist and I tumbled down the tree, bouncing from branch to branch. Fred would have loved this, but right now all I could think of was how painful it was.

THUD. I landed on the ground, right on my rear end, and just laid there, staring at the bright blue sky that seemed to mock me. Here I was, on the hard ground, and Angelina is who knows where, and the sun was just happily shining at me, like it was smiling. I stuck my tongue out at it and shut my eyes. Angelina would find me eventually. The pain in my back was getting to be unbearable, and I knew if Angelina didn't get back here soon to fix me I was going to become immobile, and that would definitely not do for our little adventure that we're having.

I couldn't help but smile at the thought that I was on an adventure with Angelina, the fact that she chose _me_ to go on this adventure with her.

"George!" Clearly soaring through the air, her voice solidly hit me in my one good ear. She couldn't have been far away. I heard the patting of quickly paced footsteps slapping the ground, coming near me. My eyes opened and I saw her, crouching next to me. Her face was all twisted up, which meant she was trying to remember something.

She pointed her wand at me and mumbled a spell I couldn't hear. The pain in my back faded away instantly.

"Oh, George," Angelina sighed. She helped me to my feet and grinned.

"Sorry, but we weren't going to get out of that lake just by climbing." Looking up at me, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

"You're lying and we both know it. You blasted us out of that lake just because you _could_," I smirked and took her other hand in mind. An alluring little half-smile curled up Angelina's face, like she had a secret. She didn't look jokingly about it though--'sweet', would be my word of choice. What is with her and being sweet and girly lately? I mean, sometimes she's all in-your-face like she usually is, but sometimes...it's like she's a completely different person. I don't think I'd ever seen her like this before, but I was hating myself for liking it. _She's still Fred's_, a little voice in my head reminded me. I tried not to scowl.

"It was a good excuse to hold you." Her barely audible voice made made the hair on my arms stand up, but I was silent, not sure what to say. That's all she wanted? Doesn't she know that she can hold me whenever she wants to, and I will _not_ be the one to stop her?

Her face falling, Angelina dropped my hands and turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. Closing my eyes, my face involuntarily twisted itself around. Damn. Because I didn't say anything, now she's going to assume I don't like her.

"Angelina--" I reached out and touched her shoulder, but she just shrugged me off. This was one of those times when I really wish Fred was here to fix everything. He had always been so much better with girls than I was--he just exuded confidence with them that I just couldn't seem to figure out. There was a reason I was a virgin and Fred wasn't.

"Forget I said anything," she mumbled. I waited for her to brighten up and announce what we were going to do next, but she didn't. She just stood there, looking so small for the first time in her life. If nothing else, Angelina was always larger than life-- never smaller. I barely allowed myself to think that maybe this time, she wouldn't bounce back. But of course, Angelina proved me wrong for the umpteenth time in my life.

"Go grab our brooms, Weasley. We're out of here." I opened my mouth to protest, but she turned around, as if reading my mind.

"Did I say it was up for discussion? Go get our stuff!"

Except she didn't say it the way usual, bossy Angelina would. For the first time in forever, I think Angelina was truly angry.

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Sorry it took so long to update! I had a bit of writer's block and had to revise the beginning of it five million times. Please let me know what you think, though! Love, Miranda**


	4. Chapter 4

**I've decided this is going to be the story of how George and Angelina got together, couple-wise. I'll most likely do a one more chapter or so and then probably write a sequel, if anybody would like to read it. Let me know!**

**Or, if you would rather I just write it in one story, let me know as well. I can't decided as of now.**

**But I think I'm leaning toward a sequel.  
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**Of course, I did as she told me to. I'd be crazy to try and defy Angelina Johnson. I was still trying to figure out, though, why she suddenly seemed so mad. If she was really upset that I didn't say anything to what she had said, wouldn't she be sad? But then, I couldn't remember a time in history when Angelina appeared sad. She always acted out when she was upset-- alright, that would explain the anger. Maybe she was mad at herself; she didn't want to let that slip. I was tempted to spill everything to her, and tell her not to be mad or sad because she had nothing to be sad about. But I couldn't. Because she was Fred's.

I returned to where Angelina was, by the edge of the lake, with a broom in each hand. She was still staring at her feet and I could have sworn I saw a tear drip off the edge of her nose. But Angelina doesn't cry, so I brushed it off as nothing. The tear must have been imaginary, though, because Angelina looked up at me, grinning. I love it when she proves me wrong. I dropped the brooms and took a step towards her.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked her, trying to choose my words carefully. Once again, she shrugged my hand off her shoulder, but this time she looked me straight in the eye.

"Didn't I tell you to ignore my stupid assumptions?" She snapped. "Now come on, we're leaving. Aren't you hungry?" As if on cue, my stomach growled just then. Hearing it, Angelina smiled at me, looking a lot better than she did just a moment ago. She looked happier, if nothing else. Brighter.

Mounting her broom, Angelina kicked off the ground and flew high into the sky. It took me about four seconds to realize what was happening, and half that time to get on my broom and follow her into the air. I pressed forward to get closer to her.

"Where are we going?" Angelina laughed. She had one of those laughs that made you smile just listening to it; she truly sounded happy. I'd heard that sound so many times having Fred as a brother. Together, we were the funniest two people on Earth. Separate-- well, I don't know. Maybe, just maybe, I'd learn to be funny without him. Right now I was a bit skeptic about it, though. He was my other half for crying out loud.

"It's a surprise," she replied, which I knew meant she had absolutely no idea where we were going. The sun was shining brightly right in front of us, closer to setting than overhead, so I'm guessing it was about two or three o'clock. Definitely past lunchtime, in my book.

Instead of looking where I was going, like I should have, I let my eyes drift to Angelina. I was flying just a few feet parallel to her, my eyes skimming over her entire self. Her mocha skin that was clear of any blemishes, her nose rounded at the end. My eyes lingered on her full lips just a few moments too long, but all I could think was, _Fred kissed those lips_. I know he did, because I saw him. More than once. I remember wanting to beat him over the head with a broomstick every time he was anywhere near Angelina. He'd always known I liked her, even though I never outright said it. He saw the look in my eyes whenever she passed by, and he knew exactly what it meant: so he asked her out. It would_ kill _him to not be the center of attention.

I suddenly felt ashamed of myself. Fred was gone, dead, and now I had her all to myself, granted she would let me have her. Fred lost his life and he'd never be kissed again. I had the rest of my life, however long that may be, to go around snogging girls. At least Fred could say he lived his short life to the fullest, I suppose. I was sitting here on a broomstick lusting after my best friend of over ten years, not saying or doing anything about it.

Angelina noticed me staring. Instead of saying anything, though, I could have sworn I saw a blush crawl up her neck and into her cheeks as she looked away quickly. I returned my attention to the air in front of me, not that it required much. There wasn't anything in the sky for miles, and nothing but trees below us.

"She's Fred's," I mumbled under my breath, hoping Angelina wouldn't hear me. That's the last thing I needed right now. I was two hundred feet in the air, about to have an emotional breakdown about my dead twin brother, and still having to remind myself that his ex-girlfriend, who also happens to be my best friend, still belongs to him romantically. Angelina hearing me claim her as Fred's would just be the icing on the cake.

Would he want me to have her? Or would he be jealous and demand I find someone else? Somehow, I wasn't sure how, I knew that Fred would have wanted everyone to move on, including me and Angelina. I also knew, though, that I would never get over him.

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We flew for awhile, a long while, in silence. We'd glance at each other every so often, and then hastily turn away when we caught the other looking. Honestly, I couldn't remember a time where things felt more right: I was flying with my best friend over an endless sea of trees. The only thing missing was the other half of me: my twin brother.

I didn't have much time to dwell on this, though, because the next thing I knew we were over Hogsmeade. Angelina curved into a dive right in front of me, and I followed suit. The sharp wind felt good, blowing my nearly-dry hair back against the sides of my head.

We dismounted in front of The Three Broomsticks and I exhaled a sigh of relief; I was frightened for a moment, that in all of Angelina's recent girliness, she would be tempted to eat at Madam Puddifoot's. Thankfully, she knew me too well. Either that, or she was going for good food rather than a flirty ambiance. While I was definitely the more sensitive twin, that doesn't mean I was ready to set foot in a pink tea room. No, thank you.

Our brooms rested against the door frame. I was pretty certain no one would bother them: the streets weren't that busy.

Angelina's eyes met mine and for a moment I thought I was going to faint.

_She's Fred's_.

I painfully tore my eyes away from hers and stepped inside the pub we had landed by. I was instantly filled with innumerable memories of my Hogwarts days: plotting tricks with Fred, flirting with various girls, having a Butterbeer with Fred, Angelina, Alicia, and Lee. Those were such good days.

I picked up a couple of Butterbeers at the bar and shuffled over to a table where Angelina was sitting. It was a table in the very back, dark corner, somewhere...private.

It was when I arrived at the table that I realized the whole reason we came here was to get something to eat, and I had returned without anything. Cursing myself silently, I turned to go get some food when Angelina's hand rested on my shoulder.

"I'll get it. You sit down. You look so tired." I didn't bother to argue, because she was right: my exhaustion swept over me right as I sat down into a rickety wooden chair. Today was the most tiring day I've had since the War itself, having sat in our--my bedroom alone for the past three and a half weeks or so.

I stared at her, walking away like she did. The curve of her hips, her long black braid swinging near the small of her back...

"You know, mate, she's all yours. Always has been." The drowsiness must really be getting to me, because what the _hell_ is Fred doing sitting in the chair next to me? He's dead!

"Uh...what do you mean?" I was a little surprised, but realized I might as well go along with it, considering Fred looked like he was going to tell me everything I wanted to hear. Fred laughed and I couldn't help but smile: it was good to hear his laugh again.

"Christ, are you simple? Angie's been in love with you forever! How could you have not known that when the rest of the world has?" Fred was staring at me like I was a first-year Muggle-born; like he had to explain everything of the magical world to me. But I couldn't accept anything he was saying: it just didn't make sense. He went out with her!

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he waved his hand and continued with his explanation.

"It's all your fault, really, because she got a little tired of waiting around for you, I think. I have honestly believed since the day I asked her to the Yule Ball that the only reason she agreed was to make you jealous. And didn't it?" He smirked, like he was proud of himself or something. Because he was my brother, I couldn't bring myself to be mad at him. That's just the way he was.

"And if you weren't going to ask her out anytime soon, why should I wait around? The girl's bloody gorgeous!" He had a point, though I wasn't going to admit it right now. I couldn't say that I wouldn't do the same thing if I was in his position. Suddenly, I forgave him for everything having to do with him dating Angelina.

Speaking of Angelina, I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye approaching our table with a couple plates of food.

"Well, that's my cue to go. Have a good snog for me, mate. She's brilliant." With a wink, Fred disappeared into thin air as if he was never there at all. And after all, he probably wasn't. That could have been a bit of my conscious telling me everything I wanted, needed to hear. But something was telling me that it really was, somehow, Fred coming back just for a moment to explain things. Whatever it was, it made me feel loads better about everything. The Angelina situation, and well, the Fred thing in general.

Angelina slid into a chair next to me and placed a plate of food in front of me. It looked like roast and potatoes. Angelina knew me well. I took a few bites, and then realizing how hungry I really was, devoured about half the plate of food in less than a minute. It was strange, really, but I didn't feel nervous around her anymore like I had for the past few hours. In an attempt to believe Fred, I was a lot more confident knowing that she felt the same about me that I did about her. The whole thought of it made my stomach turn over, knowing that we could be _everything_. We could get married. Have kids. Re-open Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which had been closed since Fred died. Blimey, we could _kiss_! That thought alone made me feel like I could do anything.

After a moment, it occurred to me what a pig I was being so I slowed down and swallowed, taking time to actually taste the food, which actually wasn't bad.

I looked up at Angelina with a mouth full of food and we burst out laughing at the same time; I tried not to spew food all over her. Her plate had barely a bite or two taken out of it.

"I must have forgotten how chronically hungry you are," Angelina said with a smile and took a few bites of food into her mouth, much slower than I had been. I set my fork down and swallowed about half my glass of Butterbeer in one gulp.

I grinned at her and finished off the rest of my plate. I watched Angelina eat for a few minutes; that had never bothered her, because Fred and I always finished before her and for several reasons, waited around for her to finish.

"Come here, George," she grabbed my hand, standing up and pulling me towards the door, "I have something I want to show you." Under her breath, I could have sworn I heard a mumble of, "And tell you, I suppose." Great. She was probably regretting even bringing me on this little adventure, and was reconsidering her feelings. Maybe Fred was wrong after all; although I couldn't recall a time when Fred was wrong about something, especially something like this.

Her hands were calloused, worn from gripping a broom handle for so many years. A small smile crept across my face, and I realized that I would be disappointed if they were soft. Angelina is not the sort of girl who would have soft hands. Her calloused hands fit her perfectly.

I was being dragged along the streets of Hogsmeade, towards the edge away from Hogwarts if my sense of direction was correct. _Yes, it was_, I noted, as we passed Madam Puddifoot's and didn't step foot inside. The tearoom was quite far away from the Hogwarts entrance to Hogsmeade.

"Angelina, where are we going?"

"You'll see." We had slowed down a bit, which I was thankful for, because if I had been walking any faster, I would have nearly killed myself on that cobble stone that was sticking out at an awkward angle out of the ground.

We stopped walking, and I noticed that we were by a big fountain. It was one of those huge things with hundreds of spouting jets of water and a large, shallow pool at the bottom of it all. I couldn't help but think how familiar it looked. I'd definitely been here before, with someone, but I couldn't put my finger on when or who or why.

"You're not going to push me into the fountain, are you? I'm just now drying off from the lake."

Angelina turned towards me and took my other hand in hers. We were holding hands; I smiled.

"Do you remember, George," Angelina said quietly, looking down, and suddenly I became very conscious of her closeness to me; she was almost right up against me. "In our fourth year, when that Slytherin idiot, Montague or something, tried to throw me in this fountain?" That's why I remember this place! I believe I cursed him because he did, indeed, stomp over to Angelina and tried to pick her up. She did not go easily, mind you. That girl was kicking and screaming and biting and thrashing: all over the place, and that was before he even got her off the ground. Fred had been off buying something at Zonko's, so I shot a '_Flipendo_' at Montague. Funny, how I can't remember what happened next...

"Yeah," I breathed, because now she was even closer to me. She let go of my hands, and I thought about how this was another one of her mood swings: going all sweet again. I liked it though, a lot.

"Remember, how Fred was gone, shopping for the latest Weasley prank at Zonko's, and how it was just you and me?" She took my hands again and set them on her hips, snaking her own arms around mine. I was ridiculously nervous; this was not how best friends acted. Hell, before today we had never even _hugged_ and now here we were being all cuddly and such. I will say, though, that I could get used to this. Something about her just felt so right.

"I remember that," I said, "and then that gorilla put his hands on you--"

"And you had a spaz and tried to use _Flipendo_ on him, which was supposed to knock him backwards. But apparently nobody ever told you that _Flipendo_ was only to be used on objects, and wasn't used on humans because it didn't work very well, and well, it sometimes...backfired." Angelina looked up at me with that adorable little half smile of hers. Three inches, that's all it would take for me to bend down and kiss her on that little half smile. Three inches.

"But instead of knocking down Montague, it knocked you backwards and basically knocked you out cold, if I remember correctly. You hit your head on the lamp post over there."

"And then what?" I asked, "I can't seem to remember past that point." I smiled, hoping she would explain what happened next.

"I'd never had someone try to protect me like that, George. It made me feel very... loved." Angelina sounded hesitant.

"You are," I blurted, not thinking about the consequences of saying something like that. She chuckled, otherwise seemed to ignore my comment.

"But that's not the point. The point is, I broke Montague's nose and had to haul you off to the hospital wing. And I wouldn't let anybody else touch you. It felt good to be protected-- well, almost protected-- and I wanted to protect you."

"I'm not sure why I brought you out here, or am telling you any of this. Other than, when I made that decision that day when we were just fourteen that I wanted to protect you and nothing was going to stop me, that's when I knew I wanted to be with you. Forever." I couldn't believe this was happening; it was still taking time to register in my brain. As expected, I was not tired anymore. I was very aware of everything, especially the fact that we were quite entwined in each other and I wasn't planning on moving anytime soon.

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PLEASE let me know what you think :) Like I said, there will probably be one more chapter, although if you want me to keep this as one story I'll try it. Please review :) Love alwaysss, Miranda**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is indeed the last chapter, although I can't decide how I feel about it. It appears I will be writing a sequel :) Let me know what you think, please! PM me if you have any ideas for the sequel :)**

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**Angelina untangled herself from me and took a few steps back, turning her back to me. Uh, oh. Not this again. No, this wasn't good.

"Forget it," she sighed, and for once, I had enough of this. She'd be all confident and sweet, and then go back to her old self again: insecure about the unknown, like she usually was about relationship things. I got it, she was scared. And well, so was I. I haven't had a really serious relationship before, one that could possibly lead to marriage, like I could see this leading to. I wanted it. Angelina was the one person in the world who I could see myself getting married to, and that alone would make me stand by her even when she was being all moody like she was right now.

"Angelina--" But she cut me off.

"No, George. Leave it. Come on, let's take you home." She was the one that sounded tired now, and something else that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was something that I'd heard in Hermione before, Mum, Alicia, Ginny, even Ron before. Something sounded broken about her.

She took a step like she was going to walk away from me, but I stepped forward and clamped my hand onto her shoulder. She wasn't getting away this time: for once in her life, Angelina Johnson was going to stop and listen to what I had to say. Sometimes she was just so impatient, and immediately assumed things that usually weren't true. She doesn't have to feel like that. I didn't want her to feel like that, and I was going to do everything in my power to make her feel better.

"Angelina," My voice dropped, and she spun around to face me, but didn't look me in the eye. It was like she was ashamed. When had Angelina ever been ashamed of anything she'd done? She's a Gryffindor, and one of the bravest I know. She was the sort of person you would call when you needed anything, whether it be a passing grade on your next Potions paper, an archenemy cursed into next week, or just someone to talk to. And trust me, I've called her on all of those occasions.

"George, listen, I'm sorry for messing things up." Her voice cracked on the last few words, and I realized what else she sounded like, the bit I couldn't quite think of earlier: she was crying.

Dammit, I made her cry.

"No, come here," I said quietly, and pulled her close to me. No, no, no. She was not getting away this time.

"Now, Angelina," she hiccuped, "you're going to be quiet and I'm going to talk for awhile. Role reversal," I smiled, but my heart wasn't really in it. I hated seeing her upset.

"You know, dear," I dared, figuring it wouldn't hurt me now, "this isn't going to be easy for me. Neither Fred nor I have ever been good at talking feelings, so we'll see how this goes. I'll try my hardest." I smiled again, but she couldn't see me so I didn't think it mattered.

Somehow, Angelina managed, in less than a second, to wriggle out of my arms and get away from me.

"No, George, I don't want to hear how you just want to be friends. I'll just go home now." She started to walk away, but luckily I had my marvelous Weasley reflexes, so I spun on my heel and Apparated right in front of her. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and refused to look at me.

I sighed, but not out loud: I knew what I had to do to get her to realize how I felt about her, because she obviously didn't have the patience for words right now. Why did girls have to be so difficult? Or, even more confusing, why do they run away every time you try to tell them you love them?

Yes, I suppose that's right. I really do love her. I knew I didn't want to spend my life with anyone else, and during rough times like these she was the only person who could make me laugh. I think that's what love is, or at least close enough for now. I'd deal with the complicated bits later.

Somehow, my left hand had made its way to her wrist and the pointer finger on my right hand was touching the side of her face. I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look me in the eye.

What I saw were the saddest, biggest, chocolate colored eyes the world has ever known. Truth be told, there were a few tear streaks on the sides of her face, and her eyes were welled up with what appeared to be a few more. _Now_, I thought to myself, _before she starts bawling all-out_.

"I'm so sorry for ruining everything, and I understand if..." At this point, I just stopped listening because she just kept going on and on about how sorry she was. Did she really not understand how I felt about her? Ever since Fred died, she's been all I have left, other than family of course. Everyone else has been avoiding me, even Lee, who called us his best friends.

"George, please don't be ma--" Before she could say anything else, I took her face in both of my hands and kissed her.

I was definitely not prepared for Angelina's reaction, though, or mine for that matter. Out of all the girls I've kissed, which hasn't been many, mind you, none of them have felt this way. I felt like I was on fire, and certainly in a good way. Angelina, on the other hand, was surprised, to put it lightly. She flung her arms around my neck and kissed me back with a passion that I thought she only had for Quidditch: burning and unrivaled. I was positive that she had never kissed my brother like this, because he would have mentioned something about it, although he did say she was 'brilliant'. 'Brilliant' describes a star, or something equally shiny or sparkling, someone intelligent. 'Fiery' would be a better word for Angelina right now.

She gripped my shirt around the collar with both hands and I found myself lifting her off the ground, placing her on the edge of the fountain so she was now much taller than me and had to lean down, her arms now around my neck, to plant thousands of feather-light kisses on my bottom lip. I sighed, and I could have sworn I heard her sigh too, just out of the back of her throat. She _was _brilliant; Fred didn't lie there. 'Fiery' was still stuck in my head, though. It was my turn to take the lead, and kissed the edge of her mouth, across her jaw, down the supple tendons of her neck, not daring to open my eyes.

Angelina took a hand to my cheek and I let her direct my mouth back to hers where she ended it with one last press of her lips to mine. She rested her forehead against mine, giggling. Well, it looks like I've set off girly-mode for Angelina. Again.

"Does this mean I didn't ruin everything?" She grinned, but the combination of her hot breath two inches away me, and the fact that she was stroking the back of my neck with her thumb, was very distracting. I was finding it very difficult to concentrate on what she was asking me.

"'Course not," I said, lifting her off the fountain. "You've always been more to me than a best friend. Why else would I peel slugs off toilet pipes for you?" She laughed, and it wasn't a giggle like before: no, this was the real Angelina, who was back, hopefully for good. I loved her, I really did. But if she was going to be some sort of wilting daffodil all the time, then no way. I loved her for who she was: my best friend. I'd let her know that someday, but not today. There would be a day for that.

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We spent the rest of the day strolling around Hogsmeade, our fingers lightly entwined the entire time. Some of the time we talked, but mostly we just enjoyed each other's silent company and loving every minute of it. At least, I did.

An hour was much too long to be spent in Zonko's Joke Shop, but we managed it. I bought loads more than I should have, all to test it and figure out how it works, to maybe produce something similar for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which I'm sure I'll try to re-open soon. Angelina would help me, I'm willing to bet. Maybe she'd even help me clean up my flat above the store; it was a disaster, and that was the last time I checked: three weeks ago. I'm sure some sort of wild creatures have inhabited it by now. Yes, she would. She'd have to. It would take a massive amount of persuasion, but I think I might be able to do it.

We were standing outside The Three Broomsticks, collecting our brooms, when she laughed again.

"There are so many things I want to ask you right now." She let go of my hand that she'd been holding and looked up at the sky, where a few drops had begun to fall.

"I've got time." Hell, I had _years_. I think she knew that, too. Her eyes closed as a few raindrops _plipped_ onto her face. She looked so happy, the happiest I've seen her in a long, long time. I smiled.

"I'm not going to ask them, though. Because you know what, Weasley?" She looked at me with one of her evilly-flirty smiles. I could have been afraid of what was coming next, but I wasn't. I don't know; I was just so happy. I just felt so much lighter and carefree, now that all the feelings were out. Not to be cliched, but it was literally like a thousand-pound weight was lifted off my shoulders and tossed away. And I had a feeling Angelina felt the same way: the joy was just _radiating _from her.

"What?" I asked her.

"I've got time, too."

**

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I know this chapter is a bit shorter than the other ones, but it's just about the way I wanted. There it is, and it is what it is :) Pleaseee let me know what you think of it, and any ideas you have for a sequel! I'd love to hear from you! :) Love, Miranda**


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